The First Time I Lived
by Amku
Summary: The first time Jane Shepard lived, she had few regrets. With the rare opportunity to reflect on her previous life, she finds herself questioning many of her decisions. Joker/FemShep/Garrus
1. Chapter 1

**Notes:**  
**1.) I want to give a gigantic 'THANK YOU!' to KrazEELegaL for beta'ing for me. She has been a major help in crafting this story so far.**

**2.) Check out the ME Smut Squad Community! I'm trying to collect as much quality ME smutty-goodness on there as possible, so if that's your thing you may want to look it up and add it. I need a few staff members so if you're interested let me know.**

**This story will loosely follow the events in ME2 with references to ME1. I won't give you a whole feckin' recap of the story because you've probably already played it three times + by now. I will talk briefly about missions and reference content, but I'll also add bits and pieces here and there to mix it up.**

**This story is rated a strong M for language, violence, and shmex that leaves little to the imagination. Most of that really isn't here yet, but trust me, it will be. If any of that offends you, I suggest finding another story because you probably won't like mine.**

* * *

Shepard sat down heavily on her plush bed, the grime from her armor smearing carelessly onto the stark white, clean coverlets. Horizon had been... rough. She stared blankly down at her arms which hung in a defeated fashion off each of her thighs. For the first time in a very very long time her armor felt tight, constricting. She scoffed, her lips turning up in a shadow of a smile. Her armor was thick and hearty. It saved her life through many battles, yet it was unable to protect her from the one thing that truly scared the hell out of her. What semblance of a smile vanished and flipped the buckle connecting her glove to her suit. Ripping the piece of armor off, she threw it at the far wall, but felt no great satisfaction at the hollow thump it made on contact or the muffled thud as hit the floor.

No tears flooded her eyes and her lips didn't tremble under an onslaught of hiccups and sobs. Instead she only watched her armored hand in silence, flexing her fingers into a passive fist. Its unarmored twin sat limply to its right. The color of her bare skin was muted and gray in the faraway illumination from the open bathroom door, the thick shafts of ethereal light falling in stretched and deliberate gashes on the cool metal of the floor. Shepard's slow, steady breaths seemed to roar in her ears in the silence of her surroundings. Her eyes shifted from her hands to look at the elongated shadows cast by the model ships she'd purchased throughout her journey so far. The dark strangeness of the room matched her mood perfectly, for she felt like a stranger in her own skin; these thoughts couldn't possibly be her own.

Shepard didn't give her heart away easily. Kaidan was the first man she ever allowed herself to become attached to. As she reflected on the events, she knew why she had allowed herself to become so damn vulnerable: she had been trying to hold on to anything that felt normal. In those days she had been tossed into a world of nightmarish fairy tale. The reapers were myth, legend. To learn that they not only existed, but were hostile and hellbent on the destruction of life in the galaxy was nearly too much for Shepard to process. To find solace in another being that was real and warm and accepting kept her grounded. Kaidan had offered that to her without judgment and understood why she needed him so badly. There was never the demand for more. He never asked her to drag her feelings out on the table. He merely offered himself as a distraction and, in turn, she offered her strength as a bastion of light in the darkness that was their world at that time.

There was something not only comforting, but sanity saving in Kaidan's arms. It was the one thing that truly felt real in all of those hellish months. It was the reason why she was weak. Though there was never a demand, she had laid her cards out face up for him... Her armor creaked under the flexing of her fingers.

It was times like these that Shepard was reminded of how very small and insignificant she was. Though Cerberus had spent an obscene amount of money to bring her back into the game, she was still fragile in a way that a bullet could never render, weak by standards not determined by flesh. It didn't make her sad. It made her angry. This was not supposed to happen. People like her don't fall in... She shuddered at the thought, but let it continue. They don't fall in love because of this very moment. They don't fall in love because love is selfish and they cannot afford to be selfish. They don't fall in love because doing so allows another person to have such utter and complete control over their emotions and actions. Shepard's actions needed to be her own. She couldn't allow herself to make stupid and selfish decisions solely based on her feelings. Never again. Never.

She stood abruptly, walking to her bathroom to peer into the mirror above her sink. Her pale skin looked sickly in the hospital-quality lighting. Her eyes were red, and her brows turned downward as she realized that her efforts were moot; there was a trail of water leading from each eye down to the line of her jaw. Her unarmored hand ripped the tears from her face, erasing any sign of them ever being there. She definitely would not cry, but she would do the next best thing. A bestial roar erupted from her throat and she slammed her gloved fist into the mirror, her raged face erupting into a shower of glass shards. She noted, with a quirk of her lips, that the sound that the glass made as it hit the floor was really rather pretty.

* * *

Joker was sorely tempted to patch into the Commander's quarters to check on her. His finger hovered over the connect button, uncertainty restraining his movements. When she had returned from Horizon she had only stopped briefly to tell him where to fly next. Her eyes focused on something outside of the window, refusing to meet his. When he had turned to speak with her he noticed something. It was nearly lost in the brevity of the encounter and the nonchalant way in which she handled the situation, but in her eyes he noticed sadness and it had shaken him to his core.

Shepard never let her weaknesses show to anyone. When Ashley had been killed in action Jane... Shepard had been angered because she felt as if she failed her crew, but she never let an ounce of sadness show. Now as he reflected on the situation, Joker was sure that such a feat had been very difficult to endure, but it had been necessary for the crew's sake. The morale would have plummeted had they been able to see how very human Shepard was. They needed an invincible leader, one who could stand up to Geth without flinching, one who could take a bullet and push forward, one who could make the tough decisions in the wake of utter peril. She had done it and the crew stayed strong. Saren had been defeated. The Reaper threat had been thwarted. They had accomplished what many would have found to be impossible.

Defeated, Joker pulled his hand away from the console and simply stared at the screens in front of him. He didn't have the kind of relationship with Shepard that would merit such an obvious disregard for privacy. As deep as Joker's friendship with Shepard ran in his mind, he was rather positive that the commander did not feel the same way. Sure, Shepard found him good for a laugh or two, but he also doubted that she'd really appreciate him disrupting her alone time after such a tough mission. He knew that over half of the colony had been taken by the Collectors. He also knew that Shepard would be angry at herself for not stopping those bastards. But sad? No. That was all from Kaidan.

Joker shifted in his chair and rested his chin in his open palm. He'd been sitting here all day and ass was totally starting to get numb at this point. An irritated sigh puffed from his lips.  
"Would you like to rest, Mr. Moreau? I am easily able to pilot the ship in your absence," EDI's bright blue bulb burst into existence, causing Joker's chin to slip from his hand in surprise.

"Shit! I nearly bit the tip of my tongue off..." he popped a finger in his mouth to check for blood. None, of course. "And not a chance," he grumbled and wiped his eyes, the lids heavy with the obvious need for sleep. There were few places that Joker would sleep on the ship. Firstly, fuck pods. He definitely wasn't going to sleep in a glass coffin that would only leave him with a crick in his neck. Secondly, people are too damn loud to sleep in the bunks. He'd never get any rest at all and he didn't relish the thought of stripping to his skivvies in front of a bunch of dudes anyway. He'd much rather just do what he normally did: fall asleep in his chair, drool all over himself for a few hours, wake up, shower, and start his day over again. The blue light of EDI's 'face' retreated as the lids of his red-rimmed eyes slid closed.

* * *

"Damn it, Grunt! Move your ass!" Shepard took cover behind an unsteady pillar. The thresher maw shifted its' snake-like body to a more advantageous position to gain line of sight on the Krogan. Shepard ground her teeth as he moved too slowly and a stream of acidic spit sprayed onto his armor. In proper Krogan style, he seemed less than disturbed by the attack and turned to fire a round into the creature's gaping mouth.

"Don't worry about me, Shepard. This worm's as good as dead," his gruff voice crackled in her earpiece.

"Yeah, helping peel that armor off after it's melted onto you will be a real treat, I'm sure," Shepard puffed a stray lock of black hair from her eyes and shot a pulse of biotic energy at the creature before it could retreat to the sand again.

"Careful, Shepard. You make me think that you might enjoy that a little too much," Grunt's rough voice quipped in return followed by a loud guffaw at her exasperated sigh.

"Eyes up, guys. It's moving to the left," Shepard could feel the ground shifting to accommodate the worm's gigantic body as it slid into a new position in the sand. The apocalyptic setting in which they found themselves seemed pretty damned appropriate. Bodies were scattered about the scene. Toppled structures were re-purposed as cover from the maw's deadly attacks. Unused ammo littered the area like trash. Shepard grabbed a clip, slamming it home in her weapon. As the maw reappeared, she steadied the heavy pistol in both of her hands, abandoning cover briefly to shift to a new position. While Grunt may not have minded the acid spit, she sure as hell didn't want her armor glued to her skin. She fired off another wave of biotic power at the creature's head.

To her left, she could see Garrus lining up a shot on the maw's head. It didn't take long before he squeezed off several potentially fatal shots. The worm roared in pained rage and lobbed a ball of acid directly in Garrus' position. He lunged over the makeshift cover of a crumbled wall to avoid the attack and dashed in Shepard's direction. He slid in next to the her, almost pushing her over in his quick dive. With his sniper rifle still held firmly in his grasp he quickly resumed his position, pumping out several more shots. An acidic blast was shot in their direction again, and though majority was blocked by their cover, enough liquid sprayed over the barrier to hit Garrus square in the back and on his lower neck. He grunted in pain as the fast acting acid worked its' way into his scales. Jane dropped her weapon momentarily, moving close to Garrus and using her gloved hand to wipe off as much of the offending liquid as possible.

"I'm okay, Shepard," Garrus ground out, picking up her weapon and handing it back to her. "Let's just kill this son of a bitch."

Shepard nodded with a scowl, watching briefly as Garrus reloaded his rifle. It felt as if she'd gone through fifty bullets and more biotic energy than she'd used in quite awhile and the damn thing was still moving as if the battle had only just begun.

"Well, maybe if you actually attack the damn thing instead of trying to hide..." Grunt's voice grumbled teasingly in her ear. Though she knew he was only joking, she felt her anger flare regardless. She felt the ground shift again and abandoned her cover completely, holding her pistol in one hand and readying her biotics with the other.

"Shepard! Don't be stupid! Get back here!" Garrus growled, grasping at her ankle with his talons.  
Her eyes shot a very serious and very hard glance over her shoulder, and Garrus' hand retreated reluctantly. He had never seen her look so angry before. His mandibles twitched in response and she turned her attention back to the maw. As its' head burst through the sand, she fired off several shots, the bullets penetrating it's thick skin with frightening ease. Garrus' handiwork had obviously left the worm dazed, but Shepard's shots elicited a hitch in its movements. She took the opportunity to slam its' head backward with an immensely powerful burst from her biotics. The worm faltered, shaking its head. Just as she was sure that the worm was about to fall, it roared in defiance, moving to bring it head down on Shepard's uncovered and vulnerable position.

"Move it, Shepard!" Garrus sprinted to her position with cat-like grace, wrapping his arm around her waist and throwing her toward cover. He barely managed to scramble out from under the maw's giant jaws as its' face slammed into the ground with enough force to cause the terrain to shake. Shepard grunted as her thigh connected with the metal landscape and blinked in confusion as she heard Garrus' pained growl from beside her.

The unmistakable pump of a shotgun indicated that Grunt had decided to move in for the kill. The shot rang out and Shepard and Garrus turned their attention to see him utterly covered in what could only be described as 'Thresher Maw Goo'. His shotgun was slung over his shoulder as he looked at them both with an appropriately cocky grin. "Gonna get up?" he held a hand out to Shepard first. "I like your style, Shepard. I should get you angry more often."

"That was way too close," Garrus growled as he stood. He grasped his arm in his hand, the armor masking whatever injury was beneath. "I've _never _seen you act more reckless. What the hell has gotten in to you? You could have gotten yourself killed out there!"

"I don't need a nanny, Garrus," Shepard said quickly, dusting off her armor with shaky hands. However, as much as she hated it, he was right. She had let her anger get the best of her and made a choice that nearly got herself and Garrus killed. Grunt gave a hearty chuckle at her snarky reply and turned to head back to the main Krogan encampment. At least one of them was in a good mood.

_'One down,'_ Shepard thought, watching Grunt carefully out of the corner of her eye. He was cleaning the remains of the thresher maw from his shotgun with a cloth. She had never seen a bigger smirk on anyone. Ever. She could barely help it when her own smile crept to her lips. She knew that each member of her squad would have some piece of business to handle before they dove into hell. She would gladly help in any way because it would be unfair to allow them to perish with unfinished affairs. _'Get everything squared away and then take the plunge...'_The transport hitched from a bout of turbulence, but smoothed out soon enough.

Garrus, in contrast, wouldn't even pull his eyes from his boots, the orbs stormy in his dark thoughts. She could see that his neck was still slick from his sloppy application of medigel, though it looked far less inflamed. She knew that he was very upset with her, but she couldn't find it within herself to apologize. Beyond that, she was baffled as to why the hell he was so angry in the first place. She'd made many other reckless decisions on her missions, so why was he so up in arms about this one? Speaking of arms, she cringed as she noticed that his was still held limply at his side.

"Do you need some medigel for the ride back?" she offered professionally, pulling a tube of the salve from the small compartment on her armor and motioning toward his arm.

"I'm fine, thank you."

Shepard blinked, her eyes narrowing at his clipped reply. A swift hand reached over and barely bumped his arm, lips turning downward at the hiss she elicited from him. He turned to her with gritted teeth and a snarl. "Give me. Now," she said sternly as she pulled off her gloves and scooted closer to him.

He sighed in frustration, unbuckling his glove and lower arm armor. Shepard shooed his hands away and slid the pieces off gingerly, taking much care not to jar his injured limb. Though she was by no means a physician, she'd seen her share of injuries and she knew the sign of a broken plate. It was nearly the equivalent of a broken bone for a human. Careful eyes and gentle fingers probed and inspected for injury, no plate or space between being left less than thoroughly scrutinized. Garrus' mandibles twitched as he watched her with careful eyes though he said nothing.

"I don't see an in-" she stopped short upon coming to the joint of his arm. "Hmm." The tough flesh between the plates seemed swollen and there was a sliver of a fracture on the plate directly below it. The cap from the tube of medigel fell to the floor carelessly and she plopped a small glob on the thin but jagged crack. Slender fingers worked the gel in carefully." Obviously there isn't much to be done. It looks like you probably just wrenched your arm."

"Gee, I wonder how that happened," Garrus said, releasing a breath. Shepard's sharp eyes connected with his for a brief moment before she removed her hands and handed his armor back. A sharp chuckle caused both of them to turn to Grunt.

"What?" Garrus and Shepard asked together sharply, irritation clearly evident in both voices. The moment only succeeded in causing the Krogan's laughter to double. Both sighed, again in unison, and he nearly dropped his shotgun as he moved to wipe the tears away from his eyes.

There was little left to talk about when the group boarded the ship. Grunt headed to his quarters after a hearty slap on Shepard's back which nearly knocked the breath from her lungs. Garrus walked past her, avoiding even brushing against her as if she was diseased. She found it difficult not to reach out and poke his arm in irritation. The thought made her feel guilty since she was the cause of his discomfort in the first place. Her adrenaline had disappeared soon after the transport had taken off from Tuchanka and she was completely drained. Finding little desire to even begin thinking about the next step in the mission, Shepard padded toward her quarters with a scowl.  
"Commander, you have a new message when you have time," Kelly greeted her cheerfully with a wave as she rounded the CIC, helmet in hand.

"I'll read it in my quarters. Thank you, Kelly," Shepard wasn't surprised when her voice came out somewhere between a mumble and a growl. Kelly eyed her suspiciously as she walked directly up to the elevator and inside without stopping. She didn't bother to turn around, opting instead to simply throw a careless hand out to slap the desired button. The moment that it took for the doors to slide shut seemed painfully slow.

Shepard spent the ride up to her quarters with her sweat slicked forehead pressed against the cool metal of the elevator. There was something so calming about the ride up. Shepard had an affinity for small spaces, always had. While the elevator wasn't exactly tiny, it was small enough to make her feel comfortable, safe. She assumed that it probably had to do with her childhood, though she hated to think about those times. Her past bit at her thoughts, made her feel weak again. That's what she had been. Helpless, but not hopeless.

Growing up on Earth had been terribly difficult. She never had a chance to be normal. Her father had left before she could remember and her mother had been a junkie because of it. Shepard couldn't remember how many times she had found her mother on the kitchen floor crying and yelling, fingers making lazy patterns with her tears on the dirty tile. Her child self would coax her from the floor and lead her to her bedroom, wiping the dust from her nose.

Those had been the better times. The worse times came when her mother would partake of enough sand to render her with very brief but dangerous biotic abilities. She would smash their meager belongings in her red haze, screaming at ghosts of people long gone. Small items, picture frames or ashtrays would be lifted in a wobbling fashion and hurled angrily into walls, windows, even herself or Jane on occasion. When the haze had dissipated, she would fall limply where she stood, angered by the loss of what little power she could manage to grab at wildly with dirty, clawing fingers. Jane would run back to her room as fast as she could on her tiny unwashed feet to crawl into her closet, shutting out her mother's sobs and wails of protest. Shepard fed her, bathed her, and cared for her until every ounce of love was used up. She only wanted a mother, but her mother only wanted her fix.

Eleven. That's how old she had been when her mother finally died, still clutching her bag of red sand with cold, greedy fingers. She remembered coming home to find her mother laying stiff on the couch, eyes bulged and excrement pooling on the ratty cushion beneath her. The smell... She held back a gag as she remembered with vivid clarity. She had been put into foster care shortly after, an orphanage with far too many kids and far too little hope. She stayed there for four years before she ran away with Eddie, a leader from a local small-time gang of wayward teenagers, runaways. She fit right in, standing as Eddie's right hand and ruthless business partner. Though many of the teens got wrapped up in the lifestyle, drugs and sex, Shepard treated it as a business. She got in, made her money, and got out. Within two years she had made several contacts within the locals. They stole and did some smuggling, difficult to acquire guns and ammo mostly. Though Eddie always showed great interest in Shepard, she never allowed him near her. She remembered his hands, dirty fingernails, running up her thigh and the swift knee she brought into his crotch,_'Don't ever touch me again,'_she said with such vicious finality. He had cried. That got her point across; she grinned at the thought.

It wasn't until she was seventeen that Eddie started to smuggle red sand. He kept it from her at first, knowing that she'd never accept such a venture. Though he was only a business partner, he was the only person she'd ever told about her past and her mother. Shepard wasn't dumb. It only took her a few days to find out his dirty secret and she took off to join the military, taking half of the credits in his accounts and leaving only a note: _'I hope you choke on it.' _Funny enough, he did. Several years after she'd joined the Alliance she got word that Eddie had overdosed on the stuff just like her mother.

She scoffed, gripping the back of her neck with a shaky hand. She hated when those memories slithered their way back into her brain.

The elevator beeped as it reached its destination and she found herself relieved at the distraction. She pulled her forehead off of the cool door as it slid open with a hydraulic hiss. Her feet fell in heavy, numb steps as she walked to the next door, opening it with a pass of her hand over the holographic seal. Shepard stood in the doorway for a long moment. The room held the same heavy strangeness that it had several days ago as she had sat on her bed with her head in her hands. The majority of the past few days had felt strange really. She didn't like her crew being upset with her. Each argument felt like a personal failure, and today she was rather sure that was truly the case.

_'Tomorrow... I'll care tomorrow...'_she decided, unbuckling her boots and kicking them off with practiced ease. Soon she had fully stripped her armor from her body, placing it in the cleaning receptacle near her bed. She closed the compartment's door and, using the holographic controls, turned the machine on.

She wanted nothing more than to take a shower and sleep, but her computer mocked her as she passed by to the bathroom. She paused in the doorway, looking at the red blinking light on the side of the screen. She sighed, walking over and prodding the controls with one finger. She didn't bother to sit down; she only crossed her arms over her naked breasts in frustration, reading the name of the sender several times. Kaidan. She clicked her tongue and returned to the previous page, not bothering to read the message. Jane reached out with a quick hand and slapped the picture frame on her desk face down. That was absolutely the last thing she needed right now.

* * *

Joker didn't dream very often. His nights were usually rather short and fitful, never falling into a deep enough sleep to achieve a true dream. In fact, his sleep was usually rather light and he was able to hear almost everything that went on around him because of it. The slightest noise would wake him and he'd have to restart his trek toward a shaky sleep all over again. He was thankful that the cockpit was set pretty far away from any activity aboard the ship. It allowed him to sneak a nap or two during down times through the daytime hours and get a few solid hours of rest at night. The days blended together out here. It was always dark and starry outside of his window, but his body was conditioned to tell if it was obscenely late or early and would typically seek to rest of its own volition.

His head twitched to the side in his sleep as, just outside of his own thoughts, he could hear a shuffling noise. It stopped suddenly, almost as quickly as it began. He cracked open an eye to investigate and was greeted by Shepard's curious violet eyes gazing down at him. "Why are you sleeping in here?" her voice was quiet, but with the same hard edge it always had. Her hair was mussed from sleep and she tucked a lock behind her ear.

"This chair is comfy," his unused voice cracked in his simple reply. "And there's no way I'm leaving my baby alone with the Overlord," he added with a yawn, jerking his head to the left to indicate EDI's interface. She only nodded in response and returned her gaze to the windows of the cockpit. Joker shifted to sit more vertically. His previous position had made his neck ache a bit and he rubbed the spot gingerly. "Why are you up, Commander? Need something?"

The shrug he received was not totally unexpected. He didn't figure she'd spill her guts at such a simple question. "Just couldn't sleep is all." He glanced back at her and noticed her eyes drifting over his holographic controls. "I have no idea how you pilot this thing."

Joker's response was quick as he rubbed his eyes tiredly, "No shit. That's why I don't let you touch anything up here. If I left you in here for five minutes we'd crash into the nearest planet and we are _not_building a third Normandy."

EDI's bulb appeared, "Yes, that would be inadvisable."

Joker's eyebrow quirked upward, "On second thought, how would you like to give it a shot, Commander? Quick request though. On the next Normandy, can we, oh, I don't know, not include an AI?"

Shepard snorted, "Good to see that your wit doesn't wear off with fatigue. When was the last time you got a decent night's sleep?"

"Commander, I never get a decent night's sleep out here. I guess it'd kill them to include private quarters for the pilot," Joker ran his fingers over a few keys to check the status of the ship. "Besides, I get enough to get by."

Shepard shifted on her feet. "I'll see what I can do. I don't want my pilot running off of two hours of sleep and a cup of coffee."

Joker turned to her and grinned, "Thanks, Commander. So, is there anything else I can do for you or do you just enjoy my stellar personality and sense of humor. Hah! Stellar! Get it?"

Shepard raised her eyebrow and her lips quirked upward. She really had no practical reason to have come to the cockpit, in all honesty. Part of her knew that Joker would be here, and damn it, if she didn't need someone familiar who wasn't pissed at her right now. She had spent the several hours since showering just staring into the darkness of her quarters, unable to find sleep. Eventually she had abandoned all hope of rest, the name on her computer screen still flashing in her mind. "No, there's nothing else. I was just walking around the ship. Decided I'd gaze at the stars for a bit. On a side note, definitely not one of your better jokes."

"Eh, I tried. I'm not always sharp when it's so late."

She shifted again and Joker noticed with a sidelong glance that, not only was she dressed in modest sleep attire, she was also barefooted. The whole situation just seemed far too strange for his tastes. He'd never seen Shepard in anything other than armor or regulation suits. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and shifted, paying a whole lot of attention to a screen that really didn't have anything all too important on it. A somewhat uncomfortable silence settled over the space and just as Joker was about to say something stupid to get the ball rolling again, Shepard spoke.  
"I…" she began, continuing her thought only after Joker glanced back at her, urging the conversation forward. "I love it so much out here. I mean, outside of our suits and ships we're toast, but there's something so amazing and awe-inspiring about space. How much we still don't know about it all. You'd think we'd be able to decipher a bit more about something in which we're so deeply entrenched."

"_I'd _think you'd never leave ground again after what happened… Damn, that was the most terrifying thing I'd ever seen, and I've seen a lot of terrifying shit," the sentence would be ambiguous to anyone other than the two of them. "I never told you thank you for coming back for my stupid ass."

"No thanks needed, Joker," Shepard smiled down at him.

"If I could have…" Joker started. How could he finish that sentence? _If I could have saved you? If I could have been more agile? If I wasn't crippled and slow?_

"Don't," her reply was quick and quiet, "It's over now and we're here."

After a few moments of silence, Joker asked a question that had tugged at the back of his mind since he'd learned of her resurrection, "What was it like?" The pilot knew it probably wasn't the best time to bring up the topic of her death, but hell, when would it ever be a good time? _'Hey, Commander! I was just wondering. You remember that time that you got spaced and then burned to a crisp? Yea, how did that go for you?'_

"Dying? Not that bad really. A bit of struggling as I realized what was happening…" she paused as she remembered the moments clearly. "But soon it was quiet and still. I can say that it truly was a humbling experience," her small chuckle was bitter. "I was feeling rather invincible at the time. Nothing like a leak in your suit to bring you back to reality." Somewhere in the explanation, her voice had lost its professional edge and she leaned on Joker's armrest, nearly perching on it as she continued. "In all honesty, it's a good thing there was a leak. I'm glad I was out by the time I hit atmo."

"See? That whole bit of conversation is just creepy. I don't think anyone else would actually respond to 'So, how was dying?' with 'Eh, not too bad!'" Joker's lips quirked up as he finally achieved a laugh from her. An honest laugh.

"I'm just thankful to be able to give it a second shot really," the sentence was mostly light-hearted, though it had a serious edge to it. "Maybe I can fix some mistakes I made the first time around."

"Yea, I guess you're right," he shifted his arm as he noticed how amazingly close she was. The same uneasiness crept back into the pit of his stomach. He hated being fucked with, even if Shepard was wholly unaware of his plight. It wasn't very often that he was close to anyone (besides the damn AI, who, in all fairness, wasn't even a 'someone'), especially someone whose company he already found enjoyable. The whole situation would leave him irritated and lonely and he _hated_that feeling more than anything. It was the feeling that he'd had when his friends went outside to play and he was attached to his braces. The same feeling when those friends grew up and started dating, but no girl could handle the severity of his situation. The same feeling when he'd been ridiculed in flight school. In every situation he'd bitten back harshly, refusing to let any of it get him down. He grew bitter, yes. He grew angry, yes. He grew tired, yes. But he wouldn't yield to something that he had zero control over.

"You're a million miles away. You alright?" Shepard's unprofessional voice interrupted his thoughts.

Maybe it was because it was so late on such a strange night, or maybe it was because Shepard was acting so casual with him, but for whatever reason, the moment felt eerily normal. It was almost as if things had never changed and they were simply on rounds between colonies. It was an... unsettling feeling. Joker slid his finger over the metal edge of the control table, making the ships controls dim as the system went into autopilot.

"I- I'm going to go take a shower," he muttered. She moved quickly from his armrest and stepped to the side. She gazed out to the stars again as he struggled slightly to stand. If it would have been almost anyone else Shepard would have offered them a hand. With Joker, he'd only be offended, so she waited and acted as if nothing was wrong, because nothing was. As he began to walk toward out of the cockpit, he was stilled by Shepard's voice.

"I never said thank you," she said, her voice strong again. He turned his face to her over his shoulder, waiting for her to continue. "For being here. I don't know the entire story behind what happened to you after I died, but waking up to a friendly and familiar face meant a lot to me. So thanks."

"No problem, Commander."

* * *

**Ending Notes: Just cleaning up things a bit as I plan to resurrect this corpse. How is that? -Actual- breaks in content! Huh? Huh?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: I apologize for the wait time on this chapter. I was hoping to get a beta read on it before I posted it, but I figure I should just go ahead and get it up. I've read over this a kajillion times. I hope that there are no errors; my beta is AWOL at the moment. I hope everything is okay with her, but in the mean time I am actively searching for a replacement. If anyone is interested, please send me a PM.**

* * *

Garrus hated the med bay. Well, hate is a strong word, especially when used to describe a place that is meant to save lives. But dislike. That was a better word for it, he guessed. And maybe it wasn't even the med bay. Maybe it was because he was sitting here half naked, his armor having been shed to allow for a complete view of his upper half. Of course, he was still wearing a protective undershirt, but regardless, he would have still felt just as naked had his plating been completely exposed. He drummed the blunted talons of his good hand nervously on the metal surface that served as his seat. The tinny drumming filled the otherwise quiet room. The other occupant was currently peering at him over her omni tool.

"I don't bite, Garrus. No need to be skittish. We've been over this," Dr. Chakwas said with a smile, knowing that it only embarrassed her patient even more. She was currently looking over his scans to see how his injuries were healing. Her omni tool chirped as it concluded its' examination. "You're coming along nicely. The salve that Dr. Solus pulled together for you is working out quite well," she paused briefly, pulling another tiny tube of the salve from a nearby drawer and handing it over to him, "This should be the last that you'll need."

"What about medigel? Wouldn't it work faster?" Garrus shifted uncomfortably on the metal table. He knew damn well that the medigel would work faster and why she would instruct him to use the salve anyway, but he'd been sitting here swinging his legs impatiently like a child for the past five minutes; conversation had all but eluded him. He was grasping for anything that would reassure Dr. Chakwas that he wasn't a complete idiot. He was pretty sure he failed anyhow.

"Well, yes, I suppose so," she crossed her arms, the fabric of her outfit scrunching at the crooks of her elbows, "but medigel is for quick fixes, not long term healing. And medigel is beneficial for the entire team; this salve can only be used on you." She motioned toward the tube, "I doubt that it would hurt other species, but it won't help either. For us it's little more than smelly lotion." She continued with a smile, "Besides, is one more day really all that bad?"

"No, no. I was just curious," Garrus nodded, "Thank you, doctor."

"Just make sure you don't do too much with that arm. Also, see me tomorrow so I can make sure you're fit for battle again," Dr. Chakwas stood by the door as Garrus collected his armor by the collar with his good hand, the arms of the suit falling limply at the sides. He padded past her with a curt nod and out into the mess. Several crew members watched quietly from their seats, but Garrus brushed by, his injured arm cradled in a sling at his side. The unappetizing smell of food was thick in the room. For once he was glad that his only food consisted of the dextro-paste in his quarters.

He glanced down at his injured limb as he made his way through the small crowd that had formed at the first signs of dinner. The injury really could have been much worse, he imagined. He had really done a great job of twisting it though; his plates ached where they'd been wrenched past their normal, unforgiving area of movement. Turians were not known for flexibility, that was for sure. Still, he couldn't wait to get back out into the action. He hadn't even been ground side since Tuchanka several days ago. He had completely missed the fight with Jacob's father, much to his dismay. He had felt utterly useless as he watched Shepard, Zaeed, and Jacob exit the ship, his arm tied to his side and throbbing.

Obviously he'd be useless in a gun fight at the moment, but he had only even seen Shepard once since their argument. There was still the nagging idea that Shepard was benching and would continue to bench him for reasons beyond the obvious. Garrus loved the thrill of battle, and up until Tuchanka Shepard had been more than willing to have him at her side not only as a squad member, but as an ear outside of the fights. She'd visit his quarters in the battery room to ask his opinions on a situation or brew up solutions to a particularly difficult problem. She had barely said more than three words to him since the mission, and he would be lying if he said that he'd wished she'd said more. He still wasn't convinced that his words were out of line.

Shepard had been distant from the crew since Horizon and everyone could feel the tension. Was it fair that Kaidan had been an ass? Not at all, but hell, life's not fair, and that didn't mean that she had to completely collapse on herself. She still had friends, very close friends that would take bullets for her. The fact that she didn't acknowledge that was upsetting and Garrus would be the first to let Shepard know just how irritating it was.

Many of her crew had given up a lot to join her on such a dangerous mission, himself included. He hadn't had much to lose back on Omega. In fact, he was pretty sure that he probably would have died holed up in that loft had Shepard not come along when she did. However, he was still rather certain he'd have had more of a chance of survival there than on this mission. A suicide mission. Into the Omega 4 Relay. From which no ship had returned. Ever. He had joined knowing the severity of her mission anyway. He puffed out a clipped sigh. He'd joined Shepard for what she had been: a symbol, a beacon, true goodness and justice embodied in a single, wholly-_imperfect_being. She made him feel as if, even with his many, many flaws, he could still do a lot of good in this galaxy. That's why he'd gone to Omega in the first place. His quest for justice was fueled by Shepard's death; he wanted nothing more than to add some hope for the downtrodden because he himself was among them. Perhaps if he helped enough he'd find his own solace from the loss of a person so just and good.

This Shepard was a different beast though. She was worried and unsure, made foolish decisions which not only affected herself but her team as well. Yes, Shepard made mistakes on their first round through the galaxy, but now it seemed as if her head was fogged by personal matters. Garrus was angry because she was thinking with her heart instead of her head, blindly tossing herself out in dangerous situations, and testing her luck against slim chances with fatal consequences. He didn't believe that it was only because of the incident with Kaidan. Shepard wasn't as weak as to completely crumple over the loss of a lover, especially when the loss was so bitter and the relationship so short. Sure, Garrus didn't know exactly what their time together had been like (they had been very private after all), but he doubted any sort of lasting relationship could be formed in only several frantic months. Shepard didn't seem like the kind to build relationships that quickly.

He lifted his hand, still holding his armor, to wave at Gardner who waved back with a crooked grin on his face. The pot in front of the man boiled with ferocity and splashed a few bits of food onto the range around it. The pieces were picked off as quickly as they landed and then tossed into the trash can. At least one of the crew didn't look at him like his plates was radioactive. He had to remind himself that a Turian without armor was a rare occurrence for many of these people. It was something that he'd just have to shrug off.

Finally weaving out of the last of the crewmembers, he padded down the hall through the sleeper pods and to the room which housed the main battery and what personal items he'd brought with him. Regardless of how much he tried to think of anything else, his thoughts kept drifting back to Tuchanka. The whole situation with Shepard would have been different had he not felt as though she could make a fatal mistake. At this rate, if she didn't get herself injured or killed by her uncharacteristically unstable judgment, her crew would definitely be the ones to pay. He could tell how much she still blamed herself for Ashley's death on Virmire; would she be able to stand herself knowing that a foolhardy decision caused the death of her entire squad? He knew that feeling all too well and it ate him up inside...

* * *

Joker glanced at his wristwatch. It was late again. Really late. As if on cue, he heard light and quiet footsteps on the cool metal floor behind his chair. For some reason he could feel his heart speed up, thrumming against his ribs. He mentally rolled his eyes at his body's response at something so completely harmless.

"Hey Commander," he said casually, not bothering to turn around.

"You have good hearing," she said, almost sullenly. She padded to his left still just out of peripheral vision. He glanced at her quickly out of the corner of his eye.

"Face it. Subtlety has never really been your thing. What makes you think you could start now? It's always 'Hey, I wonder what'll happen if we blow that up! Lemme throw half a squad of guys out of a window with my biotics! Let's wear bells, set off firecrackers, and play with noisemakers right outside of the bad guy's hideout!'" Joker's fingers skimmed over a few buttons, putting EDI in charge momentarily as he turned his chair to face Shepard. "So, what'd you bring me?"

"Cream and two sugars," she said triumphantly as she placed a coffee cup in his hand.

"You'll get it right one day," Joker commented, accepting he mug and sipping the semi-dark liquid.

She sighed. "You know, it'd be easier if you just tell me what you take in your coffee. It's not a 'surprise me' kind of beverage," Shepard replied, leaning against an unused control panel and nursing her own cup. The steam clung to her cheeks, making them glossy.

"It's more fun this way," he covertly skimmed his eyes down her body, stopping briefly at her chest which was obviously unconstrained under her shirt. His mind hated what his body was thinking and with an effort, he clamped down his wandering thoughts.

Shepard scoffed, taking a quick sip, "How's life in the cockpit?"

"The usual: fly around at your whim, watch the ship's vitals, fly some more, sneak a nap," he glanced out of the window. Shepard had been visiting him every night for the past week. She'd bring coffee, they'd talk about nothing in particular, and soon he'd start to feel awkward somewhere along the way and make a not-so-hasty retreat to the showers. That kind of thing wouldn't happen if he wasn't so completely out of his depth around women. He wasn't sure when Shepard had become another 'woman' in his mind, but he wished like hell that she could go back to being 'Commander'. He assumed it was probably about the time that his arm grazed her hip when she was sitting on his armrest. Yep, that was probably it. He'd replayed that recent memory in his head more times than he'd ever admit. He knew that it was utterly pathetic, but that was the most intimate place that he'd ever touched a woman. Sure, he'd seen everything that the fairer sex had to offer via vids, but to actually touch a woman? His past hadn't really allowed it. He may have actually had a chance during the two years that Shepard was on a table, but he found that he'd filled most of his time with fighting the Alliance to fly again and finally joining Cerberus to accomplish that. When they told him that not only would be able to fly, but he'd also be serving under Shepard, he was hooked. At that point he had spent much of his time flying small jobs for Cerberus, rarely seeing many female crew members and of the small amount of females onboard, he never got to spend any extended amount of time with any of them. As soon as the flight was complete, the crew dispersed, leaving him alone for the next round. Her words brought him back to the present, realizing that he was still staring out of the window.

"Sounds fun," Shepard said a quirk of her lips.

"Oh, I'm sure it isn't as exciting as blowing up bad guys and sniping their leaders, but without me your ass would be grounded," Joker replied teasingly.

"You know I don't 'snipe' anything. That's Garrus' job," Jane paused momentarily before taking another sip.

"How's he healing? He should almost be ready for action again, right?" A light beeping caused Joker to turn his head enough to read the offending screen before flipping a switch and silencing the noise. He faced her again, placing the half empty coffee cup on his armrest.

"Chakwas says he's coming along fine. That paste Mordin made cut a few days off of his recovery time," Shepard shifted against the panel, her shorts shifting upward to expose more of her thighs.

Joker's eyes flitted down just briefly to her legs, "You haven't even talked to him, have you?" Joker gauged her almost sheepish response, her eyes in her coffee cup and her fingers drumming against the rim. "Oh, come on, Commander. Give the guy a break. He did save you from an untimely death via Thresher Maw."

"That thing wouldn't have killed me," Shepard replied defiantly, one hand coming off of her cup to rest on her hip.

"Just like that leak in your suit didn't?" Joker's eyebrow quirked upward. He was always was one for honesty. It was usually a leading factor in why he tended to muck up any potential relationships. He hoped it wasn't the case this time. _'Wait, what?'_

Shepard seemed taken aback by the comment. Well, as taken aback as Shepard _could_seem. She didn't seem to notice the utterly confused expression on her companion's face. Her brow furrowed as she searched for the right retort. She blinked as she realized that there was none. "You're… right," she nodded, "You're right. I'm acting like a child. I'll be sure to talk with him."

"Hey, don't have to get all serious now," Joker righted himself and scoffed, picking up his coffee cup and draining the last bit of the liquid.

Shepard smiled and patted him on the shoulder as she started to walk out of the cockpit. "Thanks for the talk. I'm going to get some sleep. You should, too."

Joker's eyes watched her hips as she walked toward the CIC. She was never one to walk in a very feminine fashion, so to say that her hips 'swayed' wasn't an entirely accurate statement, but it was enough to catch his eye. _'Yep. Time for a shower.'_

* * *

Garrus flipped up a small panel on the main battery terminal. He sorted through his mail; nothing too particularly interesting. Mostly spam. Nothing on Sidonis yet. He'd recruited an old friend to pull some strings and find out whatever he could on the man's whereabouts. It seemed as if he was turning out to be rather useless. He let out an exasperated sigh before slamming the panel back into place. The fact that he'd been cooped up in this hole for a little over a week didn't help his mood in the least.

A small beep drew his sharp eyes to the door. "Come in," he said quickly. He immediately regretted his words as the doors opened, revealing Shepard.

"We need to talk," she spoke bluntly, her hands held stiffly behind her back in a professional manner. She looked up at him, her large violet eyes connecting with his small, raptor-like ones. With her confident air, it was easy to forget how short she was in comparison. She walked forward, letting the door slide shut behind her.

"I don't really _feel _like talking right now," he replied just as bluntly, turning his back to her and pretending to work on the ship's weaponry. The only difference in the two was that Shepard could actually pull her rank in the situation, even though she really didn't have a rank anymore. Old habits die hard.

"I don't really care what you feel like doing, Garrus. We need to talk. Now," she paced between the bench and the control panel, the first crack in her professionalism. She spoke before he could interject, "I understand that things on Tuchanka were less than ideal, but I need my team. And I need their approval."

Garrus' eyes narrowed as he turned to face her, but he said nothing. He placed his fist on his hip and let her continue.

"I can't have a divided house. It will get us all killed," she turned her back to him, opting to look at the battery as she spoke. "I have an entire team of very skilled people, but of all of those people, I place a rather large amount of trust in you. You've been with me the longest. You've been the most loyal team member I could ask for. But that doesn't mean you can question my decisions. A team full of Commanders is as good as dead." Just as Garrus was about to lay into her self-righteous speech, she motioned for his silence with one hand, "But I also understand that my choices on Tuchanka were not... the best I've made. I offer no excuses for my actions and I won't let it happen again."

She turned to him, her eyes connecting squarely with his, "I assume that's why I've been avoiding this conversation. I knew you'd tell me something that I just didn't want to hear at the time: the truth. My decisions were reckless. I almost got both of us killed and I did get you injured. I won't put you in a situation where you have to pull my ass out of the fire again."

He scoffed and shook his head. Her eyes narrowed at his outburst, urging him to speak what he'd been thinking. "Shepard, I understand. I really do. I can't say that I know exactly what you're... going through... but I will say that I'm not upset because of the decision you made. I'm upset because of _why_you made that decision." He came up beside her, placing his good hand on the railing next to her and leaning into it. Looking forward, he continued, "This is probably out of line, but, in short, he's not worth getting yourself killed over."

She looked down at her fingers which were gripping the railing, "I don't think I'd word it that way, but it isn't completely out of line. Speaking frankly, I'm not truly upset about Kaidan. I'm a little pissed, but not… sad or anything. It was short and secretive, not the best environment to nurture a relationship. Add that to the fact that we were on a mission that would determine the fate of the galaxy and the shakiness of the entire thing is pretty evident." She suddenly seemed more embarrassed, turning her face from Garrus, "I guess I just miss being able to talk with someone and… relieve a little stress. I'm not going to get weepy because I don't have a guy handy to boff… And I have you to talk to."

Garrus drew her shoulders under his arm, "You know where I am. My door is open."

"Thanks, Garrus," Shepard gave the smallest hint of a smile. "On a side note, the day that I try to kill myself over a man is the day that I will pole dance at Afterlife," she paused at Garrus' one tweaked mandible, the Turian version of a raised eyebrow, "Okay, not the best example. But really? A thresher maw? I'm sure I could think of far more pleasant ways to off myself."

Garrus chuckled, "I wasn't implying that you were actually _trying_." One reason why he enjoyed talks with Shepard was because she actually was pretty funny. It was a trait that very few people got to see in her. "I missed these conversations," he wasn't only talking about the last week; they both knew that.

Shepard smiled and looked back toward the battery.

"Wait, you would pole dance at Afterlife?" his mandibles twitched, holding back another bout of laughter. He loved making her embarrassed, and he could see the pink tinge grow in her cheeks.

"Why? Do you want a show?" she gave a wolfish grin, her cheeks still blazing. His mandibles flared out even more. She always was very good at turning the tables on him.

He removed his arm from her shoulder and turned to her, "Actually, yes. I'm sure there's a sturdy pole somewhere around here."

"Oh, is there now?" she gave a hearty laugh at his completely embarrassed expression.

"I just shouldn't talk. Ever," he covered his eyes with his talons and sighed out a short laugh.

"Oh, I don't know. It's kind of endearing. Who would have thought that Archangel, sniper extraordinaire, was all thumbs around ladies?" she chuckled in return and punched him lightly on the chest.

"Wait, there's a lady here?" Garrus bit back with a grin.

Shepard feigned a shocked gasp and placed her hand on her chest, "I'm hurt! Don't make me prove it to you, you dog! I don't think you realize how much modesty is completely stripped from you when you share a shower with twenty other people."

"Maybe you _should _prove it. I've never seen a naked alien before," Garrus motioned toward her clothing, "Off with it."

"All right. You called my bluff," She grinned in embarrassment and pushed her hair out of her eyes.

"Wait, that was a bluff?" Garrus urged onward. It was rare that he had an opportunity to prod at Shepard, there was no way he'd let her slide this easily.

Shepard's cheeks were on fire. She knew he was just trying to get a rise out of her, and he was accomplishing that beautifully. She made one last desperate attempt to take reins of the conversation again, "Tell you what. I'll show you everything _and_ how it works before we hit the Collectors. Deal?" She wanted to laugh as Garrus' mandibles drooped in shock. She could almost see his Turian brain whirring in his head as he tried desperately to find a solution.  
Never one to back down from a challenge, he coughed out his response, "Deal."

Her words finally sank in and the high from winning their playful fracas vanished, _'Oh god, did I really just propose having sex with Garrus? Best friend Garrus? Turian Garrus?'_Shepard nearly paled at the thought, but quickly righted herself when she noticed his small, but wide eyes on her. "How is your arm?" she managed, barely stuttering.

"Much better, thank you," he replied, swallowing a lump in his throat.

"I should…go," she moved quickly to the door. "Lots of stuff to do."

"Yea," he glanced over his shoulder at the door, but she was already halfway toward the elevator.

* * *

She knew from the second that Thane walked into the CIC room that something was on his mind. His lips pursed together in a nervous fashion, an expression she never saw the assassin wear. Fear, perhaps? She couldn't tell with his giant, dark eyes.

"Everything okay, Krios?" Shepard asked, taking the proactive approach. She swore that some of her teammates would circle her like sharks, waiting for the most inopportune time to strike with a request.

"I'm afraid not, Shepard," he paused, holding his hands behind his back in a stance with which she'd become all too familiar. "I have received troubling news about my son," his head cocked upward to hers and his dark eyes watched her.

This wasn't the place to speak about a private matter; she glanced around at all of the eyes on the man. "Let's go into the briefing room," Shepard motioned toward the door on her left. "I doubt you want to talk about it here."

"I don't want to bother you if you're busy, Commander," he lied, motioning toward the galaxy map behind her that was zoomed in on the planet they were closest to.

"Oh, please do. If I launch one more probe I'm going to dig my eyes out with my bare fingers," she rolled her eyes and smiled lightly. Gathering minerals had to be one of her least favorite things to do, and while Thane's problem may be more taxing, odds were that it'd also be more interesting. Thane only nodded at her joke, his mind obviously clouded with worry. "Come on," she stood, walking toward the lab doors. She walked briskly, the doors barely having time to open before she stepped inside.

"Hello, Shepard! Would like to talk when you have time," Mordin said in his typical fast-paced manner, his large eyes blinking several times in his friendly greeting.

"I'll come by later, Mordin," she replied with a smile, not breaking her swift pace.

"Of course, Shepard. When you have time," Mordin waved after the two.

Once both Thane and herself were in the briefing room, she turned to him. "Okay, what can we do to help?"

Thane blinked at her swift offer of assistance, "My son, Kolyat... I've received troubling information. It seems as if he's turned to assassination as a career." Thane shifted his weight between his feet, "I would prefer for him not to make the same mistakes that I have."

Shepard remembered their conversations clearly. Thane was trying desperately to atone for the very thing his son was seeking to do. Kolyat hadn't been chosen and raised by the Hanar to become an assassin like his father had. It appeared as if he was making this decision of his own free will. She assumed that to choose such a path would be like killing those people himself, not only as the tool, but as the mind behind the tool. If that was the case, she could understand why Thane would want to stop him. "I see."

"I understand if we do not have time to-" Thane was quick to amend his last sentence, but Shepard was quicker in laying his doubts to rest.

"Everyone has things they want to fix before the relay. If I had time to help Zaeed blow up an old friend then we have time for this. Talk to me. What does your intel say about his whereabouts and the target?" Shepard leaned against the table behind her, her palms pressing flat against the surface. Problem-solving was something that Shepard always felt she was good at. It's one reason why she was sure many saw her as a good leader. Listening to her crew had always been very important to her.

Thane nodded gratefully, "He is on the Citadel. As for the target, I have no information. I was hoping to scope out the area. Find the person who would hire him."

"Alright. We'll see what we can do then," Shepard nodded and patted him on the shoulder. "We'll find your son, Thane. Don't worry."

"Thank you. I won't take any more of your time," his large eyes blinked twice and he turned to leave the room.

* * *

**Ending Notes: Another cleaned up chapter. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Notes: WAT? No really, this is a for-really-reals update. I have a short explanation in my profile and a burning desire to pump out a few chapters.**

**Unbeta'd, so I apologize in advance for errors!**

* * *

"Keep eyes on the target, Shepard. We can't lose him," Thane's raspy voice filtered over her comm.

She scaled the structures up to the catwalk above the Ward. Below she could see the target, a turian and his krogan bodyguard making rounds, shaking hands, chatting up the turian's potential voters. The turian's not-so-radical (by comparison) view of humans was the big selling point in his campaign and he made no show of hiding his dislike for her species. _Prick_.

"I see him, Thane. We're good to go," Shepard replied. Her hand hovered over her pistol out of sheer habit. She wasn't used to being in her armor and not having its comfortable weight in her hand.

"Keep me posted."

The turian made a stop or two before finally making his way into a popular drinking establishment. "I have to break contact momentarily. I'll tell you the when he is in view again."

Finding Kolyat's target had been rather easy actually. Captain Bailey had trapped the bastard who had hired Thane's son and after putting the screws to the little worm, he had broken like a... well, something that breaks easily. Shepard scrunched her brows together as she searched for words. _Eh_, she shrugged. She was never good with words. Don't have to be good with words when you're good at shooting stuff, she thought as she weaved through the covered portion of the catwalk, nearly bumping into a worker.

The man turned around quickly, obviously spooked by her hasty entrance. "Hey! This area is off limits, lady. Can't you read the signs?" the man asked, pointing to the flashing holographic displays behind her on the walls.

"I was... I needed... Ah, fuck it," she stuttered, trying to think of an excuse, but finding it so much easier to just pistol whip the guy and move on. He crumpled at her feet like a... Like a... _Stupid words. _She leapt over the man's unconscious form, hoping she hadn't lost the turian.

"Have you found him, Shepard?" Thane asked.

"He's leaving the nightclub, Thane. I'm having to play a little catch up here. Are you close?" Shepard asked, finally getting back on the outside of the catwalk.

"I'm coming," Thane replied.

Shepard finally caught sight of the turian just in time to see Kolyat take his first shot at the bodyguard.

"Kolyat!" Shepard shouted, hoping to catch the boy's attention in time to save the turian. Unfortunately, Kolyat was barely perturbed by her distraction and followed his prey into a nearby apartment.

"Thane! He's inside!"

"I saw," Thane said, sprinting toward the apartment and over the bodyguard's crumpled form.

The orange sun sat heavily in the sky in the windows of the apartment, nearly blinding the duo as the door slid open with a mechanical hiss.

In the middle of the room, the turian sat on his knees with his hands on his head, execution style. Kolyat stood behind the man, his gun drawn and ready.

"Kolyat, put the gun down," Shepard eased, her own pistol in her hand waiting for the right moment. Bailey and another C-Sec officer were hot on their trail, entering the room just seconds after them.

"Kolyat, please," his father urged. "Listen to her."

"This has got to be some colossal joke. You? Now you decide to show up?" he laughed bitterly, shaking his head.

"I know you're angry with me, but you cannot do this," Thane stressed, holding his hands up to reach for his son.

"Angry with you? I don't even _know_ you," Kolyat spat. "You were _never_there," he shook his pistol toward the turian at his knees for emphasis. The turian cowered, terrified of the unstable boy's itchy trigger finger.

"Someone _please_do something," the turian pleaded, his hands shaking.

Shepard knew she had to end it and fast before the kid did something he would deeply regret. As quickly as she could, she fired a shot just beside Kolyat's shoulder, causing him to jump in surprise. In two long strides, Shepard was at his side and after a swift punch to the man's jaw, she snatched the pistol from his hands. She checked the chamber and popped the magazine out of the gun, pocketing it in a pouch at her belt.

Shaking her head she turned back to Thane. "He's all yours."

"Many thanks, Shepard," Thane replied sincerely, approaching his reeling son.

Shepard tried to feel good about what had happened. She had saved Kolyat from making a horrible decision. Didn't change the fact that the kid had turned to violence because of his parent. The idea _really_ struck home. In long strides she headed for the door, tossing the emptied gun to Bailey.

* * *

It was late. Somehow she still found herself in the cargo bay, running full tilt on the treadmill that was included in their workout area. She had insisted on getting something to do other than stare at datapads all day during their down time. She had enough on her mind. She didn't need her own voice droning on in her head about facts and figures and seemingly insurmountable odds. She needed a reliable assistant. This lone wolf approach to shit she had no idea about was starting to get old. Maybe she'd handle that later.

The workout space was small, but adequate: a treadmill, a weight set and bench (which she had been sure would satisfy both the human and alien members of her crew), and heavy duty mats for sparring. Garrus was right; humans prepared for battle like little girls preparing for a tea party. Sometimes you just need to punch the shit out of someone, get the shit punched out of you, and move on. If you were looking for hand holding, you were probably on the wrong ship anyhow.

Shepard's bare feet pounded steadily on the belt of the treadmill. She would have blisters, she knew, but it was so rare that her feet weren't covered in the heavy boots of her armor. It felt good, even as the skin of her feet started to sting.

She had moved the music player from her quarters down here so she could space out while she ran. The soft whine of a violin filtered over its speakers accompanied by thready plucks of other various stringed instruments. This music always calmed her, let her even her breaths so she could focus on running faster longer. Her mind drifted off to various places: the slums of earth, the halls of the Citadel, the colony on Elysium... It wasn't her mind's fault really. She hadn't been to very many happy places in her lifetime. It was only natural that it would choose to travel to places that reeked of burning flesh or the stink of orphans huddled together for warmth during the cruel winters on earth.

-o-o-

_"Oi, Ophi!" a boy's voice called out._

_"Will you stop calling me that?" she growled, her voice completely lacking any malice. She actually liked the kid. "And stop following me already."_

_"I'm hungry," the boy whined. "Derek took ma food, the big fatty."_

_She raised her eyebrow at the boy, "He took your food?"_

_"Yea. Said if I didn' eat it I didn' wan' it," he replied in his usual lazy canter. It was a wonder she understood him at all. He pushed his dirty mud-brown bangs from his eyes with a frustrated scowl._

_He leaned against the corner of a dumpster, trash spilling out of the top and down the side. Just beyond him she could see the decaying ruins of the old in-between house for the orphans. They had to shut it down after the last raid. It seemed as if not even the orphans were safe from the desperate folk of this city's underbelly. Scum. Every last one of them. She refused to be one of those people when she grew up._

_"Here," Shepard said, handing the boy the rest of her food. "You stay away from him from now on, okay? Tell me if he comes back around. I'll take care of him."_

_"Thanks, Ophi. Yer the best," he said with a wide grin, his front tooth missing._

_"Stop calling me that!" she rolled her eyes with a smile. "Oh, I found you something the other day. It's in my bag, hold on."_

_The kid perched on his haunches and greedily ate the crust of bread she had given him. He watched her as her hands sifted through her pack._

_"Ah! Here," she smiled, pulling a pair of ratty shoes from the bag and holding them out to his small hands triumphantly. They may not have been in the best condition, but battered is better than none at all._

_"Oh, wow! You don't want nothin' for 'em? I don't really have nothin' ta give..." he said experimentally, his tiny toes wiggling in excitement. They were literally caked in the black muck of the city streets._

_"Take them, you snot," she grinned, tossing them to him. She pulled the strap of her bag over her shoulder. "I'll see you later, kid."_

_"Bye, Op- Bye!" the boy cried, pulling the slightly too-tight shoes on in a hurry._

-o-o-

In her city, your social status was directly tied to how close you lived to the ground. Skyscrapers littered the cityscape. You couldn't even see the tops from the pit. She had always imagined what it would be like to live in one of those penthouses. She always thought that it would have to be magical. A fairytale. Anything would have been better than refuse-covered landscape of her childhood. Now as she looked back she could see that to those people in the sky, she _was_the refuse at the bottom of the pit.

_Ophelia._ That had been her name. And she had _hated_it. When she joined the Alliance she had quickly claimed that her name was Jane, ambiguous and unassuming. She liked it.

The kid... James... His name was James. She had found him only weeks after that. Dead in a gutter with his shoes missing.

_Fuck_her mind and where it decided to go.

Shepard wasn't sure when she had stepped off the track. She also wasn't sure when she had started to empty the contents of her stomach onto the floor beside the treadmill. But she was acutely aware of the presence of another person beside her and she cringed as they held her hair back. She retched until her esophagus bled, swirls of red dancing prettily amongst the ruins of her dinner.

"Shepard," the familiar rasp of Garrus' voice came to her as her choking subsided. "Are you alright?" His free hand pressed timidly between her shoulder blades trying to give whatever comfort he could offer.

She sighed in relief. She was _so_glad that it was Garrus. Had it been anyone else she was certain that she would have died from embarrassment. She relaxed against his hand and he paused, his talons letting a few strands of her hair loose.

"I'm fine, Garrus," she replied, cringing at her ruined voice.

"Do you need me to get Chakwas?" he asked from over her shoulder, his good hand settling her hair against her back, careful not to let too much fall in her face.

"Unnecessary. I just ran a little too fast for a little too long. Thank you though," she said, squinting her eyes and wiping her arm against her mouth. She could feel Garrus' eyes on her and she shifted to look at him. "Did I suddenly grow an extra head?" she joked humorlessly.

"No, I'm sorry. I've just never seen you wear this before," he motioned to her bare arms and loose pants, "You're much less intimidating like this." His mandible twitched in his good humor.

"Oh, ha-ha," Shepard smiled lightly, grabbing her water bottle from the weight bench to wash the vile taste of vomit out of her mouth.

"But you are okay?" Garrus asked seriously.

"Yes, yes, mother hen," Shepard rolled her eyes. "Want to check my temperature or something?"

Garrus held up his hands defensively, "Excuse me for checking on you."

"I'm sorry, I'm just being an ass." She rubbed the back of her hand across her sweat-slicked brow. "How is your arm?" she asked, motioning to his hand questioningly.

"Got the Chakwas Stamp of Approval earlier while you were out on the Citadel. I am officially fit for battle, commander," Garrus said, mimicking a human salute.

"Oh, then you should be up for some sparring?" Shepard grinned at him as devilishly as she could muster.

Garrus gawked at her for a moment. "Are you sure? You were just..." he motioned to where she had just wiped the vomit off of the floor with a towel.

She chucked the towel in the cleaning receptacle next to the work out area. The machine clicked on, making a low whirring sound. "Are you scared, Vakarian?" she asked, the grin still in place. In truth, she felt like shit, but she needed something to get her mind off of _everything else_.

"Never, commander," Garrus replied, his hand retreating to a comfortable place on the back of his neck

"Off with the armor then," Shepard said, motioning to his heavy armor with a click of her tongue.

"Commander?" he asked incredulously.

"Only seems fair, yes?" Shepard held her arms out to display her thin running pants and tank. She pulled a hair tie from her pocket and pulled her long, unfastened hair back into a messy ponytail.

"I guess," Garrus replied skeptically, moving to unbuckle the straps on his chest plate. In a few clicks, he had the upper half of his complicated armor on the floor. With his digits free of his constraining gloves, he worked on the buckles of his bulky leg armor and boots with ease. Soon they joined his other discarded armor.

He knocked his head to the side in a quick stretch, his armored hood peeking out from under his thin armless shirt. Shepard had never seen him so bare. His metallic plates shimmered in the nearly inadequate lighting of the cargo hold and his limbs were thin and wiry, but strong and armored. Shepard noticed that his cloth pants had holes cut out for his leg spurs. It made sense, she guessed.

He glanced at her as she tried her damnedest to hide her gawking. His mandible twitched in what could only be a cocky grin as he swaggered over to the training mats. "You coming, Shepard?"

She leaned down, turning up the volume on her music before following his lead over to the mat. The music seemed amazingly out of place, but Garrus didn't complain. They both readied themselves for the fight, stretching and twisting (to varying degrees, Garrus noticed).

"What did Thane need?" he asked casually, dropping into a low crouch.

"Just had some family troubles," she replied, falling in to her own comfortable fighting stance.

"I see," he replied, trying not to look too surprised. Shepard had discreetly divulged that Thane had a family when they had talked once. Hopefully the other man found some peace in whatever happened on the Citadel.

Just as his words exited his mouth, Shepard was on him. Suddenly they both fell into a flurry of movement. Punches, kicks, and counters passed between them. Shepard landed a nasty jab to his lesser armored stomach. Garrus managed to knock Shapard off balance, making her come down hard on her backside. Both managed to recover from blow after blow, panting heavily and circling each other experimentally.

"Getting tired?" Shepard grinned, jabbing at Garrus' stomach.

"Dunno. You?" Garrus replied, blocking her punch and barreling into her, pushing her back onto the mats with a hard thump.

Shepard grunted as he knocked the wind out of her. Before she could recover from her initial shock, Garrus had her arms pinned at her sides.

Shepard growled, wriggling under his taloned fingers and hissing as they tore skin.

"Shit! Sorry," Garrus hissed, drawing his hands back and hovering them over her wounds. "Are you ok?"

In one swift move, she threw her legs over, tossing him from his precarious position and onto his back with a grunt. "Never better," she grinned, small rivulets of blood trailing down her arms as she held him in place.

"Cheater," Garrus grumbled, trying unsuccessfully to pull out of her grasp. He didn't want to hurt her more than he already had.

Panic twinged in his gut as he realized their positions. He noted her own uneasy look as the high of her victory faded. Their conversation, their bet came back to him and he nearly laughed it off to clear the tension. Any hope of doing so vanished as she bit her lip and pushed her hips down on his experimentally.

He coughed at their pleasurable contact. For once he was very, _very_glad that Turians couldn't blush. "Shepard?"

She blushed a pretty, deep crimson and looked away from his inquiring gaze. "I'm sorry," she said quickly, rolling off of him.

His hips were cold with the loss of her weight. "Shepard, wait." She didn't listen to him. Before he could grasp her wrist, she wriggled away, popping open the receptacle and grabbing her cleaned towel. "Shepard!"

"What?" she growled, looking over her shoulder at him. Her cheeks were on fire.

"I didn't say that it was bad..." Garrus replied simply. "Just different."

"This isn't a good idea. Just forget I _ever_ did that," Shepard shook her head and headed toward the door of the cargo hold.

* * *

Things were awkward. Ok, that was an understatement. Things were ridiculously, hide-your-head-in-a-hole-and-hope-to-die awkward. Ever since Shepard had decided to practically molest Garrus in the cargo bay she had said maybe five words to him. It was strange. He was _trying_to talk to her. That was a good thing, right? But every time he approached her she balked and made up some ridiculous reason to excuse herself.

Now it was nearly midnight and here she was, talking to Joker again. He sat in his chair, watching her out of the corner of his eye. His screens were alight with activity. A lot of stuff going on. None of it all too important.

The shutters were open, the stars seeming to whiz by them. Shepard knew better, of course, but the little points of light were beautiful nonetheless. This was still one of her favorite areas on the ship, the view only being a part of the reason why it was so nice. The company was also enjoyable. Her mind still kept floating back to the cargo bay though...

"You're quiet. It's creepy," Joker finally said, pretending to be preoccupied with a screen.

"Sorry. A lot on my mind," she answered sheepishly, hanging her hand off of the back of her neck. She dropped it as she realized that it was totally something Garrus would do. _Garrus..._her mind growled at her inability to shake the thoughts of the turian.

"No kidding. Need to talk about it? Even if you bore me out of my mind, I can't go anywhere. Well, not very fast anyway..." Joker offered with his usual spice of self-deprecating humor.

"You're very kind to offer," she paused, smiling and shaking her head, "I think... But no. No, thank you."

With a flourish, he set the ship into autopilot and turned to face her, the orange glow from the holographic display bouncing off his scruffy jawline. He had been looking forward to her coming back. She'd been absent from their late night chats for a bit now. He picked up the coffee cup that she had brought with her and took a long sip. "Alright, then. What else is go-"

"I'm actually considering having sex with Garrus," Shepard blurted out hurriedly, cutting off the pilot's chit-chat.

His mouth hung ajar from his last words. He didn't shut it. He blinked once, testing his voice experimentally, but all that came out was a choke. "You're... I'm sorry, _what?_"

"I know!" she threw her hands up into the air and paced back and forth between the door and the side of his console, her bare feet slapping against the floor. "We were talking… and... sturdy poles... and!" She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

Joker watched her, disbelief evident in his eyes. "Are you shitting me? I don't think I could have done anything bad enough to deserve this kind of a trick being played on me."

Shepard stopped, glaring at the pilot, "I'm being serious, Joker! … I don't know what to do. And I don't know who to talk to..."

Joker's eyes narrowed. He cursed his spinelessness. Hell, what had he even been after in the first place? Shepard? He felt like a fool. He shook his head and gritted his teeth. "Hell, Shepard. I don't know what to tell you. Maybe you should talk with Kelly? Since that's her, you know, _job_? I'm just the fucking pilot, not a shrink."

"She's weird. I can't tell if she's trying to gauge my mental state or figuring out a way into my pants..." Shepard growled, chewing at her thumb nail.

Apparently that was a recurring theme on this ship, Joker thought bitterly.

Did the cockpit suddenly feel a _lot_smaller? It was suddenly very, very uncomfortable. He turned back to his console. "I've got some diagnostics I need to run, Shepard. Maybe we can talk later."

Shepard stopped and looked at the pilot with a curious frown. "Oh..." she paused, pushing her hair out of her eyes. "Alright. I'll talk to you later?"

"Maybe," he replied, watching his screens with unnecessary intensity. She left after a long, awkward pause. He couldn't bring himself to drink the cup of coffee she had brought to him. Even if she had finally gotten it right.

* * *

**Ending Notes: There! Finally! I have a short teaser for Ch. 4 in my profile if you're interested. **

**What's your favorite mission from ME2?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Notes: It still makes me giggle that I have such consistent traffic to my story, Reward. I was sifting through my monthly traffic and just felt the need to share that little tidbit. **

**Also, I am considering making a small collection of ME short stories in the near future. Some AU perhaps, some smut surely, maybe some humor and the like. We'll see. I'll let you know in my future author's notes. **

**Unbeta'd! I apologize for any errors. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Shepard jolted awake, her hand reaching out for the pistol beside her bed. She paused, wild eyes scanning the twilight of her quarters. She gulped a breath of air and fell back against her pillows, her hand scrubbing at her sweaty brow.

For a moment she'd been back on earth. For a moment... She shook her head and rolled out of her bed. No use in trying to force sleep now. Turning the clock around and glaring sleepily at the bright red numbers she groaned. Three o' clock. Perfect.

She sat there for a moment, blinking away the last vestiges of sleep. Her mind was racing on about absolutely nothing, fighting ghosts in places that were long since gone. She stood and made her way over to her computer, turning the monitor on lazily and plopping down in her chair. She stared at the screen for a long moment, seeming to ponder if it was truly worth it to try to get any work done.

She opened a few news sites. Too depressing. Celebrity gossip. Skip. Weather. Who cares? Don't need an umbrella in space.

Shepard propped her chin in her hands and stared at the looked over her shoulder and immediately felt crazy. Like someone would be peeking over her shoulder in her own quarters... EDI, she glared at the AI's terminal. She cut her eyes back to her screen and typed her words quickly. _Turian physiology. _Enter. She read the names of the pages of information carefully. Last thing she wanted was Fornax popping up on her computer. Greater Medical Institute of Illium. That sounded reputable, she mused and chose the page.

Her eyes scanned the picture that it pulled up: an artist's rendering of a nude male turian. The upper portion of the form was unsurprising. She'd seen it before, either when Garrus lacked his chest armor or when she'd seen other turians in battle. She distinctly remembered one unfortunate turian whose upper armor had been peeled right off by a grenade. Nasty stuff. She blinked, realizing that her morbid mind was wandering again.

She studied the image closely, paying extra attention to the lower belly and crotch. There was... nothing there? She balked and read the information. Oh. _Oh!_ Got it, she realized, biting her lip. It wasn't _out _unless it was in use. She reached over and snagged a glass of water that had been siting there far too long and took a sip from it before she almost spit it all out onto her terminal.

She sat back in her chair suddenly, remembering the details from the sparring match between her and Garrus. There had definitely been _something_ pressed against her when she pushed her hips down on him. Her stomach squeezed with the sudden realization that he had to have been turned on in some capacity, right? She groaned. _Guys get boners, Shepard_, she chastised herself. _Even alien guys. Pretty flimsy evidence, slick._

Opposite from the male rendering was his female counterpart. They looked nearly identical, she noted. No breasts. No visible genitalia. Suddenly Shepard felt... over equipped. She pressed her palms into her breasts and frowned.

She finished reading the page and sighed. That was all very informative for if she ever needed to perform a medical inspection on Garrus, but it didn't answer even a fraction of her real questions.

She pulled up her search bar. _Turian and human intercourse. _She cringed and hit enter, turning a ghostly color as she read the page titles. After several long moments and a near nosebleed, she found a page that looked promising. _Turian and human relationships._

_"Some people think that love between aliens is distasteful. I disagree. My mate, Orkuri, and I have been together for ten years."_

Shepard glanced at the picture of a very attractive blonde woman and a turian, posed together side by side. The turian had three white markings on each cheek and, to Shepard's amusement, the human also copied these markings on her own cheeks. She wondered briefly if they were facial tattoos or makeup. They were kind of cute, really.

All right. Enough of that. Shepard skipped the rest of the commentary, looking specifically for advice on how to screw a turian without dying.

_Mating_. Bingo. Shepard chose the option.

* * *

"Shepard?"

She jumped at her name and sat up straight, her head peeling off of her desk. "Huh?" she gasped.

"Ow..." she groaned, rubbing where her forehead had been resting on the surface for god knows how long.

"Commander. Officer Vakarian is requesting permission to enter your quarters," EDI replied. It was obvious that this wasn't the first time she'd said it.

"What time is it?" Shepard croaked, shaking her head. The arm she'd had sprawled across the desk was completely numb and fell limply at her side. She shook the appendage and tested her fingers but found them completely useless. The familiar, uncomfortable tingle of blood rushing to the limb caused her to wince.

"It is currently 10am," EDI replied.

Shepard paled. _Ten o'clock_? She never slept past six! "Yea, send him in," she said groggily.

She glanced at her screen. A image of a turian male propped on a bed looked back at her. "Ah!" she barked, waving away the search with her tingling arm. She exited the page just as she heard the swish of her doors and turned to Garrus quickly, laying her hands in her lap.

Garrus stepped in and looked at her with a tweaked mandible. "You... alright?"

"Yep," she chirped too loudly.

Garrus eyed her critically. "Did you just wake up?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "At your desk?"

"It was a long night," she admitted, unable to stop the blush that crept its way to her cheeks. She crossed her arms and watched him for a moment. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Mind if I...?" he gestured toward the sitting area, but was already walking.

"Sure, go ahead."

He plodded over to her couch and sat down, giving her little choice but to follow him unless she wanted to talk to him through her impressive, and admittedly embarrassing, collection of model ships that she'd put together. She still had the model of the Citadel to put together. It was stored in her desk until she had the downtime to do it.

She followed him and sat down heavily. "What do you need?"

"We need to talk, Shepard."

Shepard raised her eyebrow at him. She guessed that this wasn't entirely surprising. She'd been avoiding him like a plague since... "I know," she replied.

There was a lengthy silence. "What happened when we were sparring-"

"I'm sorry," Shepard interrupted. "What I did was out of line."

Garrus shook his head. "Shut up for two seconds, Shepard" he chuckled. "What happened on the training mats was interesting. In a good way."

Her eyes widened just a bit and a blush crept to her cheeks. She moved to say something, but she wasn't really sure what she could say.

"Look, Shepard. This doesn't have to be anything more than friends relieving a little tension," he said, turning toward her.

"Okay," she relented, nodding.

"Or we don't have to do anything all. It's up to you."

Shepard smiled secretively. "Well, I'd hate for all of my research to go to waste."

Garrus coughed out a laugh. "You've been researching?"

"A bit," she admitted sheepishly.

He seemed to swallow hard at her admission. "Learn anything interesting?"

"I could show you if you prefer," she wiggled her eyebrows at him and barked out a laugh at his expression.

_This_was familiar. This amazing back and forth they had. These were moments that were priceless to her.

"I take it that you're feeling particularly stressed?" he asked, having regained his composure.

"Are you?"

"A bit," he said after a long moment, remembering his infuriatingly empty inbox.

"Then let's go," she said with finality. "I could use a little stress relief."

Garrus seemed to gawk at her. "Are you sure? I mean, it is a big decision."

"Is it?" she prodded. "Weren't you the one who just said that it didn't have to be anything more than friends blowing off steam?"

"Shepard, it's just that..." he stumbled over his words.

He was embarrassed, she realized with a small smile. It shouldn't have been so much of a surprise, really. She just hadn't considered the possibility of him being just as nervous as her. She smiled and scooted closer to him on the couch, catching his hand in hers. It was hard, angled, and his nails were neatly trimmed and blunted. She guessed that it was just something that came with wearing his gloves all of the time. She rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand. He looked down at their hands and back to her face. "I was about to take a shower. Would you like to join me?"

Garrus' mandibles flexed and his fingers gripped hers. "Shepard," he sighed, the flanging effect of his voice much more prevalent.

"Come on," she coaxed, pulling him to his feet and leading him to the bathroom.

"Are you sur-"

"Yes, now stop asking me that," she growled with a playful smile and pushed him back against the wall of the bathroom. Stepping closer, she placed her hand on his chest and offered her forehead to him in turian fashion. This was a common practice, according to Shepard's findings.

He chuckled. "You have done your homework." He placed his hand on her cheek before closing the gap between them, pressing his forehead to hers.

Shepard bit her lower lip and tilted her head so she could place kisses along his mandibles and jaw line. Garrus gasped in a breath and sighed shakily under her touch.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he groaned, placing his hands awkwardly on her back.

"Don't worry, I'll teach you," Shepard laughed breathily and kissed her way to his neck. His flesh was rougher than a human and Shepard focused on its texture, placing a tiny bite to the sensitive flesh.

Garrus growled, his chest hitching at her explorations. Grasping her shoulders in his hands, he swapped positions with her, pushing her into the corner of the shower and slamming his hips against hers.

Her back must have hit the button for the shower because suddenly they were both under a jet of warm water. "I'm sorry!" he gasped, shaking the water from his vision.

Shepard grinned and pushed him back to provide a bit of space between them. "Don't be." She tugged the thin fabric of his casual attire over his head and let her fingers splay over his bare chest. She ran her fingers over the hard angles of the plates of his chest and down to the hide of his lower stomach, grinning as his muscles jumped involuntarily at her touch.

"This hardly seems fair," he groaned, sliding his hand suggestively under her shirt.

"You're right," she agreed and raised her arms over her head. "Be my guest."

Garrus chuckled and pushed the wet, nearly translucent fabric up and over her chest, revealing her battle-scarred flesh. It was dropped to the floor next to his own shirt with a wet plop.

"I know it isn't what you're used to," she mumbled, her hands meeting the flesh of his lower abdomen again. "Is it okay?"

"Yea," he swallowed, running his palm over her exposed flesh as she started unfastening the closure on his pants. She jerked as his hands crossed over her breasts and he paused, "I'm sorry. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

She smiled and continued working on his pants. Her eyes glanced up at him under the fringe of her bangs. "No."

Garrus huffed a small laugh and pressed against her flesh again, more confident. She bit her lip and looked up at him. "We're going to be here all day if you keep that up."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"True." Her deft fingers eventually pulled the fabric apart and she looked up at him again. "Let's just take this slow for now, okay?"

Swapping positions, she pressed his back into the cool metal of the wall again.

"What are you talking about?" he looked at her, confused.

She didn't answer him, and pulled his pants down past his hips. His erection sprang out of the opening of his pants and Shepard paused.

"It's...teal?" she said, amused. "Guess it makes sense given the color of your blood. I would say that it's pretty if I wasn't nearly one hundred percent positive that you'd be offended."

"Oh, very fu-" his words halted to a loud groan as she wrapped her fingers around him.

"If it's any consolation, you're much bigger than any man I've been with," Shepard whispered to him, placing a few more kisses along his neck and over his cowl, working her way down his chest and dropping to her knees in front of him. The water from the shower plastered her bangs to her forehead and she shook the water from her eyes.

"I can work them off," Garrus ground out, pulling at the waist of his pants.

Shepard placed her free hand on his, halting his actions. "That's not why I'm down here," she smiled, bringing her mouth to his erection and licking the underside of it from the base to the tip. She narrowly missed getting stabbed in the eye as he bucked hard against her face.

"Shepard!" he gasped, sucking in several shaky breaths to calm himself.

"That good, huh?" she smiled, tugging his pants off the rest of the way and tossing them to the side with the rest of their soaked clothing. "I'm just getting started."

"You're going to kill me," he panted, his talons gripping the wall behind him. "Oh!"

She took the first couple inches of him in her mouth and suckled softly, running her tongue over his highly sensitive flesh.

A taloned hand fisted her hair. "It's been a long time," he growled in warning. "I don't know how long I'll last..."

She pulled back momentarily, much to his dismay. "Like I said, we'll take it slow," she paused, running her hand up and down his length, "Just tell me before you do anything. I don't feel like going into anaphylactic shock in my shower."

He nodded, his eyes wild. He shut them tightly, and clenched his jaw. "Turians can't do this."

"I know," she said around his flesh. "This is pretty much the reaction I was looking for."

He chuckled shakily and pushed the hair of her eyes. "If I wasn't a bad turian before..."

Shepard hummed out a little laugh, continuing her actions and halting any conversation. She slid her mouth down around him, taking in as much as she could. He truly was larger than any other man she'd been with, in both length and girth. According to the research she'd done, she found that it wasn't uncommon. His taste was earthy, but not unpleasant. Difficult to describe, she decided.

"Spirits, Shepard!" Garrus gasped, leaning forward and almost losing his balance as his knees went weak.

Shepard was relentless, bobbing her head down on him again. He gasped, his stomach muscles spasming.

"It's close," he ground out, watching her with half-lidded eyes. He let his head fall back as she suckled him. "Shepard!" he gasped, gripping her shoulders and pulling her back.

She gasped and continued to run her hand up and down his length in a gentle, but fevered pace. "Come on," she coaxed as he spilt himself into her hands. There was more than she was used to, and the fluid dripped out between her fingers and to the shower floor.

"Oh, wow," Garrus groaned, leaning forward against her for a moment while he regained his balance and composure. "Wow, wow..."

"Tell me about it," Shepard smiled, standing up to hug him. He returned it easily, resting his hands on her hips. "That was pretty intense."

"That was amazing," he breathed into her wet hair, the sound of the shower almost muffling his words.

"We're only getting started, Vakarian," she said with a grin. "You'll be good to go again soon, yeah?"

* * *

Shepard's eyes fluttered open. A delicious relaxation settled into her muscles and she stretched. She rolled over on to her back and stared up at the glass ceiling of her room with groggy eyes, at the myriad stars that twinkled outside of her ship. The view always left her breathless, no pun intended. It amazed her that she could still look at it now and not lose her mind. There were times when she'd awaken to the sight and think for a terrifying moment that she was back out there, her suit leaking oxygen and the unbelievable cold that can only be found in space seeping into her bones. But most of the time it was peaceful. Serene.

Garrus shifted in his sleep and the sheet pooled down around his waist. He could only sleep on his side because of his cowl, and the plates of his back picked up the light of the room. For a moment Shepard almost reached out and touched them, tested them. Though he'd just been inside of her not even three hours ago, she hadn't really had much time to explore him. The time went by so fast and everything was so frantic. Kiss here. Touch there. More. _Faster._It hadn't even dawned on her to take her time and savor it. It was a one time thing. And now it was over.

Garrus had offered her an out from the start. _"This doesn't have to be anything more than two friends blowing off steam."_It saved her the time trying to figure out where they stood now. That was handy.

Still...

_"Harder," she begged. Garrus had her pinned to the bed and mounted from behind, crushing her to the mattress. His thrusts were hard and fast and all the things that she needed so badly. She groaned loudly as her hand found her center and in no less than a handful of moments, she was gasping his name, rocking herself back against him._

It hadn't been part of her plan for him to stay. She didn't want to make this real, and when he woke up and they stared at each other awkwardly across the bed, this would be real. Very, very _real. _

Maybe if she just went back to sleep he would be gone when she woke up? Her mind battled with her. She'd already missed a whole day basking in her unscheduled alone time. It was a miracle that she hadn't been prodded by someone in at least twenty-four hours. Well, she smirked, except Garrus, of course.

The universe could wait for another few hours, she decided, rolling on her side facing away from him. Hopefully her bedmate would be absent when she awoke and they could avoid the awkward "Where are my pants?" moment.

It had been nice though, pretending that she was normal. Even if that only lasted for a few hours. Tomorrow it would be back to the grind. Trying to do the impossible.

Her eyes drifted closed and almost immediately opened as the bed shifted again. A sleepy, throaty mumble came from the other side of the bed, a heavy arm draped over her waist, and a comforting warmth pressed to her back. She would have smiled had her heart not clenched in a completely inappropriate way...

* * *

**End Notes: This is almost entirely for a single review I got the other day. I've been so wrapped up in my own stuff that I completely put off writing while I sorted those things out. Then I got them sorted and settled into a comfortable lazy point where I continued to neglect stuff like writing and painting. I apologize. **

**I'd like to paint a few pieces for ME. I may do that. I actually have a few scribblings of Garrus around, but nothing close to complete. If I do anything I'll link to them in my profile and notify you in a chapter.**

**With ME3 so close to dropping I'm unsure as to what I'll do with this story. I'll probably complete ME2 in an arc and then move on to ME3 in a second part. No promises yet, though. **


End file.
